


Sleep Talk

by KelpieChaos



Series: Dick-or-Treat 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Gender My Unit | Byleth, Blow Jobs, F/M, Linhardt sleeps surprisingly deep for someone who lived through a war, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Somnophilia, They/Them Pronouns for My Unit | Byleth, though that just means more fun time for Byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23537680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/pseuds/KelpieChaos
Summary: Byleth traced the soft lines of his face, gently pushed his hair back behind his ear where it had slipped into disarray. Linhardt shifted at the touch, murmuring something before tucking his nose into his elbow and sighing. It was adorable. They kind of wanted to see what other noises they could tease out of Linhardt.
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Dick-or-Treat 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693831
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51
Collections: Dick or Treat - Scrohto Region





	Sleep Talk

Linhardt had fallen asleep at his desk again. He must have been in the middle of a research session, by the looks of all the open books and scribbled on pages surrounding him. Byleth still couldn’t understand how he could just pass out anywhere – those desks were _not_ comfortable – but the sight always left a curl of fondness growing in their chest. Arms crossed and head pillowed on them, it almost looked like he had meant to fall asleep. The ink stains on his hands where they had brushed fresh writing put a lie to it, though. Byleth knew how much he hated having to rewrite notes and theories, could probably recite much of the grumbled complaining about wasted time and effort and how annoying it was trying to decipher smudged handwriting. He wrinkled his nose when he was annoyed, though Byleth didn’t think he was aware of it. Byleth watches him too often not to be aware of all of his little expressions. Linhardt always looked tired, but when asleep he looked finally relaxed and calm. At least, when he wasn’t being chased by nightmares of the war.

But for now, Byleth could trace the soft lines of his face, gently push his hair back behind his ear where it had slipped into disarray. Linhardt shifted at the touch, murmuring something before tucking his nose into his elbow and sighing. It was adorable. They kind of wanted to see what other noises they could tease out of Linhardt. It was something the two of them did often enough, small touches slowly rousing the other from sleep. Usually the goal was to wake the other up. Byleth wanted to see how far they could get without doing so. Linhardt was a fairly deep sleeper, despite years of war trying to train him to be up at a moment’s notice.

Carefully, they pressed a kiss to the small patch of exposed cheek right in front of Linhardt’s ear. No reaction. They weren’t really expecting one. Leaning back, they surveyed what they had to work with. Linhardt had pushed his chair back as he slumped forwards, ankles tucked under it and knees spread. He had changed out of the day’s more formal wear, into loose fitting bedclothes. There wasn’t much they could do in the way of teasing with Linhardt curled over himself as he was, but they could make it work. First things first: they had to get under the desk.

The mercenaries Byleth had grown up with, and later the students they taught, had always been impressed with how agile they were. Ducking under blades and weaving through volleys of arrows had always come naturally to them. Crawling under a desk without bumping into their husband perhaps wasn’t ever one of the ways they considered using this skill, but it certainly came in handy when doing so. There was just enough space for them to turn and kneel between Linhardt’s legs. Byleth had thought there was, but it was good to be proven right. Embarrassment didn’t come to them easily, though waking up their husband by getting stuck under his desk likely would have done it.

Light hands settled on Linhardt’s thighs. A quiet murmur from above, but otherwise no reaction. Slow but steady, Byleth pushed closer, letting their hands guide Linhardt’s legs further apart. They felt the muscles twitch under their touch, but he seemed no closer to waking up. Byleth breathed out, let the air drift warm and wet from their throat against the buttons of his trousers. Linhardt rumbled out a low noise, something that might have been a moan if he was awake. Smiling, Byleth did it again. This time their reward was Linhardt shifting in his seat, opening himself up more to them. His breath had sped up, hitching every now and then as Byleth pressed a thumb into a sensitive spot on his leg, but still had the steadiness of sleep.

Byleth sat back, gave themself enough room to carefully unbutton Linhardt’s trousers. The fabric was warm from their breath and their husband’s body heat. Buttons undone, they nudged the fabric out of the way, drawing Linhardt’s cock free. He was half hard, warm and velvet in Byleth’s hand. They let their fingers drift up and down the skin, feeling it react, feeling the heartbeat in it pulse harder. What might have been their name was muttered down to them, and they pressed their tongue to the head, licking it with coquettish flicks. Linhardt’s knees pressed against their shoulders as his breath hitched, and something that was definitely their name drifted into the air. Byleth pulled back, just slightly. Just enough to see that Linhardt was still absolutely asleep. It was almost impressive, probably would have been if they hadn’t seen him sleep though Caspar throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carrying him through the dining hall mid-meal a few years ago.

Satisfied their game wasn’t over yet, Byleth leaned in, drawing Linhardt’s cock into their mouth. He tasted of salt and slightly of soap. He must have bathed before getting lost in his research. All told, not an offensive flavor at all. They let it sit heavy on their tongue for a moment, feeling his hips shift in near imperceptible twitches. Slowly, they met each twitch, building a steady rhythm. They couldn’t reach it all with Linhardt bent over as he was, but that didn’t matter much. Small cries sounded like they were being punched out of Linhardt with each breath, occasionally interrupted by a murmur of something like their name. The taste of salt and musk built until they were sure it would still be there tomorrow. Byleth pushed closer and swallowed, again and again, Linhardt’s stomach muscles jumping against their head as they drove him closer and closer. They pulled back just enough to catch a breath, then dove back in. Linhardt was so close, and they would see their game finished.

It was only a few seconds later they heard Linhardt’s breath catch, tremors rocking through him as he spent across their tongue. Not Byleth’s favorite thing, but far from the least palatable thing they’ve ever tasted. Certainly palatable enough to not be worth making a mess.

Linhardt shifted, scooching back to blink lethargically down at them.

“Well, hello, dear.” His hand brushed against their cheek, then turned to help them out from under his desk. “I was having a wondrous dream, only to wake and find it come true.”

Taking his hand, Byleth smoothly slid around the chair and up to their feet. Their knees were covered in dust and dirt, but they were covered in the day’s sweat and grime anyway, so it didn’t much matter. Linhardt stood to help them start taking off their leathers, uncaring about his own buttons. Byleth let him draw them into a kiss.

“You talk in your sleep,” they murmured against their husband’s lips. They felt Linhardt’s smile as his response was breathed against their own.

“Is that so?”

They hummed a positive note. “A little.”

Finally their leathers fell to the ground, and Linhardt pulled away. Yawning, he stretched and turned to flop face-down across their bed. “If you could…hurry to bed. It gets cold without you.”

Byleth snorted, likely inelegantly. They never could figure out how one was supposed to do that elegantly. Moving one of the low burning candles to the nightstand, they licked their fingers and pinched the other one out. No sense letting it burn out when they were both going to sleep. Even if it was mildly impressive Linhardt was ready to sleep again so soon.

A quick wash and a fresh set of bedclothes, then they joined Linhardt under the thick blankets their husband preferred, even in the summer.

Linhardt was, somehow, back asleep already. Gentle, they pushed him just enough that they could slip under him, letting him curl against their shoulder and side. A rush of air, containing the imprint of their name, rushed across their collarbone. It was Linhardt’s favorite way to sleep – he said that their warmth was soothing, and that he disliked sleeping on his side or back – and, if pressed, Byleth might admit they enjoyed Linhardt’s weight pressing them against the sheets.

Carefully not dislodging their husband, Byleth reached for the candle. Blowing it out plunged their rooms into darkness, lit only by the crack of moonlight coming through the mostly covered window. They placed it back and turned to whisper one last thing to Linhardt.

“I love you, Linhardt.”

He curled closer at the words. Byleth caught just the edge of a garbled _‘love you…’_ in response.

They’d talk to Linhardt in the morning about doing this again.


End file.
